Hunter's Bend
by ArcadiaArden
Summary: He was not muscle. He was not a fighter. Men like him existed to clean the proof of decisions by those in power off the plane of reality. It was a service. A profession. He did not take joy in death but he did not suffer a malaise of conscience over it either. (Dark drama, eventual Rizzles, please read warnings in Ch 1)
1. Chapter 1

Rizzoli & Isles – I certainly don't own them. I give a lot of credit to the people that do and thank them for letting me mess about with them for a bit.

The story and all original characters belong to my addled little brain and are copyrighted as such.

Announcement! – CharlietheCAG has offered herself as Tribute - aka the Beta for this project. Ahhh such a brave, beautiful soul. So willing. Wish her luck and many thanks. Oh and Charlie? May the odd be forever in your editing favor ;)

**Warning:** No fanfic writer wishes to turn off her audience, but for all of you who have read me before know when I give a warning, I usually do so out of respect to the readers. Because I love you all and I appreciate you all… that said… And perhaps I'm overdoing the warnings… yet… I want those people starting this journey with me to be ready for it.

**If darker drama is not your thing… this is not your story.**

**If my other story "Run" put you off… this is not your story.**

**If death bothers you… this is not your story.**

**If a slow build bothers you… this is not your story.**

**If a long story bugs you… this is not your story.**

With the "ifs" out of the way this is a Rizzles story. (Do I write anything else ;)? ). When the story starts the characters are as they are in the show. Not together. Half the fun is getting them there :)

Now I'm aware that some of my readers are younger but this is 18+ type story. After careful consideration this will include dealing with the loss of Frost. It will not be the focal point of the story but again, please be aware I'm going there. It will be done with as much respect and honor as I can manage with my own limitations as a writer.

**_Dedicated to all of you who were supportive through my surgery - this is my thank you in the only way I know how. (considering the story line that might be a wee bit twisted ;) )_**

* * *

The Hunter had learned cities had a flavor. Palpable almost from the moment you stepped off a plane. Even in something as bland as an airport you could catch a taste of what place you had walked into. His years had taught him not to discount this aspect in his overall planning. Be aware of the fabric binding the humanity around you. It is your greatest obstacle and your greatest buffer.

Boston was salt on the tongue. It had a flavor, a spice, common yet undeniable. An element of civilization that was somehow able to adapt to any culture, embrace any belief, willing to mix into a recipe of combined ethos. It was a city born from a melting pot of others where, despite ethnicity or class, you could build your own dominion with enough time, determination and capital.

His time on this earth had clearly defined that if as a human, you could rise to power you most certainly would. Political power, financial power, criminal power; all were thrones in their own right. Never did one stand vacant and each remained damned to eternal availability to those with the means to acquire.

And there was always one person hungry for that acquisition.

Power and control were only as real as the wealth substantiating it. Defense of that wealth could twist the morals of even the most candid of men. He had observed the way control slipped under the smooth veneer of people, twisting their insides until who they had been became unrecognizable in who they were. Some forgot their past either by intention or time. Some wanted to hide where they came from. Some were born into a class long removed from the collective conscious of the world around them that seemed to not understand they were merely made of flesh and bone like the rest of humanity.

It was for these men and women people like him were needed. When decisions in closed boardrooms caused a cascade of events that were unstoppable, falling, leaving a wake of carnage behind and a closet full of rattling bones.

He was not muscle. He was not a fighter. Men like him existed to clean the proof of those decisions off the plane of reality. To regale them to the grey area of speculation. To sweep them away. It was a service. A profession. He did not take joy in it but he did not suffer a malaise of conscience over it either.

It simply was.

He walked through the security gates of Logan Airport in a push of people. He was another business suit arriving with a wheeled black suitcase. This was not his first visit and he doubted it would be his last.

* * *

Joseph Landucci sat high in his office of glass in Charlestown. Through the window and across the black water Boston glimmered brightly. The blue lights of the Zakim lit the way into the city. He could remember this shoreline before it existed. When instead he'd see the long twisting lights of the upper deck of Route 93 breaking off the North and South End from the rest of Boston. His grandfather had made his fortune off the docks in the harbor and while the stevedoring portion of his company was now based in Gloucester, L-Ship still ran the piers around the World Trade Center. Only instead of cargo ships and freight liners, cruise ships now moored at the terminals.

He owed his own father for the office he now stood in. His father's graduation from Harvard Medical School had lead to an appointment at Beth Israel. His pioneering work in diabetes had put him in contact with the largest pharmaceutical companies in the world through clinical trials. Here his family with their resources and connections had invested heavily in novel agents in small start ups all over Cambridge through a shell LLC. It wasn't long before the investments became his father's passion and eventually Tetronis Pharmaceuticals was born. One acquisition after another built a pipeline of considerable force quickly. That he would follow his father in running the pharmaceutical branch of Landucci Enterprises was never in question.

No, it's not like he even had a choice. He was the son. He would take over the family investments and grow it for the next generation.

Now standing at the window watching the trailing lights of a barge heading out to tow in a tanker, Joseph blamed that lack of option for his current predicament. Landucci Enterprises under his father's reign had all but removed itself from the international shipping business. What ships they still owned were in international partnership. The bulk of the company depended on Tetronis Pharmaceuticals to survive.

Under his father this had made sense. Under him however, this was a game that seemed as if it were designed to be lost. He was not a doctor. He was the grandson of an old fashioned stevedore. Ships came in, ships went out. Deals were made year to year. Fish, dry goods, oil, all much the same as the earliest colonies. It was in his blood. Life and death should not be part of the boardroom decisions.

Pharmaceuticals were a different business all together. Nothing was neatly on a shipping manifest. Ships did not arrive per a schedule and profits were not determined by cargo hold. No, Pharmaceuticals relied on a tightly orchestrated combination of good luck, pure science and industry timing. Pharmaceuticals were like panning for gold. You found a nugget and hoped that in the end you'd mined a fortune. But blockbuster drugs were few and far between. Even those potential drugs in the last stage of development could fail.

Failure cost millions.

Ultimately that was what left him alone in his glass office on top of Navy Pier with the lights of Boston laid out before him. Where he could see the last remnants of his grandfather's business chugging out to sea to pull another large cruise ship into harbor. Not for the first time he wished his father had left the stevedoring company untouched and unencumbered by Tetronis.

Tetronis could not afford another failed drug. If he bankrupted the pharmaceutical company, Landucci Enterprises would crumble. His entire extended family would lose their financial security, 13,000 people globally would be out of work and he would have failed.

Failure was not an option.

If only he could have realized Nicofen was a losing candidate for FDA approval before it reached the last stage of development. Half a billion dollars gone on one trial in a matter of two years. Joseph had never expected the drug would fail. Nobody had predicted it. Not the Wall Street analysts and not the thought leaders in the scientific community. Nicofen was supposed to be the next true blockbuster.

But suddenly there were a few subjects on the clinical trial that had sudden onset neutropenia. A fatal flaw for a drug destined to fight acne. None of the preclinical studies had shown this was possible but the subset of data was undeniable. If you knew where to look for it or how to look for it.

He pounded his fist lightly against the window. The analyst that had found it was an intern in the Biostatistics group. Joseph still wanted to know what had possessed the girl to pool all the data like that. It wasn't part of the statistical plan.

He wished he had asked her but soon it wouldn't be his problem anymore.

It wasn't fair that the possible effect on the patient population was miniscule in comparison with the number of people that could benefit. There was no reason not to push forward.

Except that if the statistical curves were correct the FDA would never allow the drug on the market. This wasn't a drug for a fatal disease. Any possible toxicity, even in a small subset of the population would mean the approval would be denied and Nicofen would fail.

Nobody but him had reviewed the report. The young woman's ambition had served him well in that regard. Her natural paranoia from academia had kept her mouth shut and her work private. She had been so pleased to show him. So proud.

Part of him felt badly for knowing she would never reach the potential she offered but business was business. He had a company to run and thousands of employees depending on him for their financial security. Sometimes you had to look for outside vendors to fix an inside problem. With discretion he had found himself a reliable resource. The contract was little more than faith and a phone call. There were no signatures, no proof and after the introduction the middle man was gone, leaving a phone number behind.

The call to rid himself of the situation had been surprisingly easy to make. He looked at his hand on the glass, expecting somehow to see blood staining the surface. His nails were buffed, neat. His hands sturdy, if a little soft. They looked the same as they did yesterday.

Knocking on his office door pulled him away from sight of the city at night. His secretary smiled briefly. Lauren Harper was a lovely young woman. The type of person he had hoped his own daughter would turn into. She'd been by his side for the past five years, unobtrusive but always there. Highly qualified and gave invaluable insight into many of his operating decisions. He was lucky to have her. She ran his life

Ran his life.

Joseph felt the blood drain from his face as he wished Lauren goodnight and the doors closed again.

He and the analyst were not the only ones who could possibly know about the neutropenia.

This time his chest tightened. This call would not be easy to make.

If he was able to make it at all.


	2. Chapter 2

**Please read the disclaimers in Ch 1…**

* * *

Jane watched the picture on her TV flicker with the evening news. It was the only light on in her apartment. The screen filled with a familiar face and she made it through the first minute of broadcast before shutting it off and slamming the remote down on her coffee table. In the dark silence she could hear the sounds of Jo's soft dog snores and the thud of someone moving in the apartment above her head.

Grabbing the congealed remains of her dinner off the table she stood up and made her way into the kitchen. Flicking the light on above her sink she scrapped the majority of her dinner down the disposal and washed the plate. Turning her eye was caught by the clear dry cleaning bag with her uniform mocking her.

Tomorrow was going to be a hell of a day.

Minutes later, teeth brushed, hair pulled free, Jane slipped into bed. With a sigh she listened to the familiar noises of her apartment, willed her body to relax, but the news story underscored the memories and pushed them to the surface.

Why in the hell did they have to show the building collapse?

Hero cop. Multiple instances of bravery. It was true of course, but they always started with the building collapse. Of all the footage to start with, that goddamn Storrow Center could always get under her skin. It's where everything in her life started closing in and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't escape it.

Her mind started flicking through memories and sleep was going to be fucking impossible. Jane groaned and flipped to her stomach, burying her face in her arms, desperate to block it all out. If she could be more like Maura she'd be able to meditate or some other new-age bullshit but she couldn't and the memories clawed free.

She could almost feel the brass handle of the door to the Dirty Robber under her palm, the smell of comfort food hitting her as she pushed through the doors. Now even that was only a memory.

But not that night. No, that night the Dirty Robber was still beer on tap and burgers where the grease dripped off. It was still worn vinyl seats, scuffed wood floors and sports playing on the wall. The place was a bar. Their bar.

In the darkness of her room, Jane buried her face deeper into arms, feeling her throat tighten as the memories marched on.

It had been a couple of months since the Storrow Center collapse and right after a bad domestic murder suicide where the couple's 8 year old daughter had found the bodies when she woke up. It was another news bite sensation and the public attention drained them all. By the end of the week Jane remembered wondering if it was all worth it.

But then Tim Treadwell from Larceny had burst into the bullpen with cookies in the shape of baby bottles that his wife had dropped off. He was going to be a father and that was how it went. Life moved on. Happy things happened.

So you took the happy with the sad and you dragged people out with you to catch a beer at The Dirty Robber.

Jane could distinctly recall the feeling of tension draining away when she spotted the back of Korsak's head. They'd managed to get her favorite booth by the large front window. It was always entertaining to watch the Boston street traffic at the end of a long week. She met Maura's eyes between Korsak and Frost's heads and relaxed at the smile of acknowledgement. All she needed was a drink and her night would be complete.

Ned was behind the bar and when she caught his eye, he held up her usual choice, popping the top off at her nod. Snagging the cool glass bottle on her way to the booth Jane took her seat next to Maura and held up her beer in toast. "Well that was a bitch of a week." She looked at her partner and pointed at his sling "And since you decided to take a vacation I've been pulling double duty for the past few weeks."

Korsak chucked at the glare Frost gave her while he rubbed his head in fustration with his free hand. Maura still had that small smile in place but she was studying Jane's face intently and the scrutiny made Jane flush a little. The workload since the building collapse had gotten to all of them.

Frost held up his arm. "At least your bitch of a week didn't involve helping everyone else with their grunt work and about a half a year of Korsak's paperwork. I'm stuck at my desk for another week. I'm about ready to volunteer to ride along with Frankie on traffic stops."

Shrugging Korsak took a sip of his beer. "Considering the number of files you didn't get to it's a good thing you have another week left. Maybe you'll actually get shit done."

"You are not funny." Frost drained his drink and signaled for another. "Just because you enjoy sitting on your ass eating donuts doesn't mean the rest of us do."

Sipping at her wine Maura had ripped her eyes off the dark circles under Jane's eyes to offer Frost a sympathetic smile. "It could have been worse, be patient. Just give your shoulder and elbow a chance to heal."

Jane let out a long breath when Maura finally stopped staring at her and she let herself slide closer in an attempt to make blatant examination difficult. The proximity offered its own brand of comfort and she sipped her drink. They had all needed this tonight. In the weeks since the building collapse they'd been busy healing and dealing with the after effects. There were the obvious ones like Frost's arm and Tommy's recovery.

Then there were the not so obvious ones.

Like the press of Maura's hand in hers while she watched Casey walk away and Hope bustle by. The casual way she found herself tonight thigh to thigh in the middle of the booth across from the guys. Maura laughed at something Korsak was saying and Jane could feel the gentle vibration against her leg. Her eyes were drawn to Maura's fingers on the stem of her wine glass. She had delicate hands. Over the course of their friendship she had held Maura's hand on a number of occasions but that day at the building site when Maura had pressed her fingers between Jane's that she had realized for a moment how Maura's hand fit in hers.

They had been standing there coated in dirt and dust. Behind them Tommy was being loaded in an ambulance, the baby had been wrapped in her mother's arms and Maura's hand had held hers tightly. It hadn't been until later, clean and finally finding her bed that Jane considered the rest of the story. The one that Maura had haltingly explained and then pushed past. That she had offered her kidney, again, to Hope and she would be donating as long as it was handled anonymously. With everything going on Maura had still gone out of her way to help her mother and still provide that quiet grip of support for Jane when Casey walked away.

A peanut shell hitting her square in the chest made her look up at Frost.

Frost put down the next shell. "Earth to Jane. Korsak just asked you if you were in for some nachos?"

Jane looked at Maura who was back to studying her.

Maura gave Jane a little wink. "I only agree if we get the vegetarian ones. I have no interest in the quality of ground beef used here. Vince and Barry agreed." For a moment Maura wondered if Jane even realized that she checked in with her before agreeing to order. She didn't think so. It was reflexive between them. A comfortable intimacy that was slowly returning to them since the building collapse. It had been missing in one way or another since the warehouse shooting and Maura hadn't realized it was absent until it had started to come back and the unease of the past year started to become apparent.

When she had instinctively grabbed Jane's hand to support her as Casey walked away she had wanted to cry the minute the hand had squeezed hers back and held the grip firmly. This is what had been missing between them. No matter how many life altering situations they had been through since her father's shooting they hadn't managed to make it back to that moment she was now grasping. That quiet, unyielding connection between them.

Her mother's return, Jane's kidnapping, even her own attempted murder, while each change had started to heal them nothing had tied them together. Maura had felt stirrings of what had been missing that night the baby had been dropped at her house. That was the first moment she figured out what had changed between them. But it had been elusive and she had been so overwhelmed between the situation with Dennis and then Jane's entire family with the baby that she had pushed it off again. Until that day the building collapsed.

And Jane had decided to run into it.

And she had done exactly what she, as a medical professional handling the triage should never have done. Maura hadn't been able to rationalize it when she did it and she hadn't been able to rationalize it since, but she followed Jane. Not following her hadn't been an option. It was a physical need and in the chaos of the moment her mind for once didn't rebel over her instincts.

When they'd rushed out with the dust at their backs Maura had looked behind her and fully grasped what had happened. She'd immediately tried to reconcile the situation but had been unable to qualify it. She still couldn't qualify it.

Sometimes, when she was on her own and it was quiet Maura would replay the events of that day and try to understand her reactions. The rationale continued to remain elusive.

What was easier to understand was searching out Jane and realizing that Casey for whatever reason was at the scene. She could tell by Jane's bearing that she needed support and so she'd gone over and listening to the end of the conversation she'd heard finality to the words that Maura wasn't sure Jane was fully cognizant of. It was when the woman in front of her seemed to shrink slightly at sight of Casey walking off Maura had reached out to hold her up. To let Jane know she was there when the feel of Jane's fingers squeezing hers tightly made tears threaten.

It had been missing for so long she had forgotten how powerful it was. Them. No matter how many times she analyzed her friendship and her reactions within that context with Jane it remained perplexing.

Whatever 'them' was exactly, Maura didn't know. She was positive Jane didn't know either, but sitting beside each other, touching lightly for no reason Maura could see she knew they were both done pushing it entirely away. Whatever they had been, they were somehow going to be that way again. Even if it was entirely illogical.

Yet as she watched Jane smack Korsak's hands away from the nacho plate and push it towards her, Maura also realized there were new elements weaving between them. The change was something Maura wanted to be able to ascertain but it was almost as if by avoiding certain layers of their friendship for so long that her senses were heightened to the expression of those facets.

Maura grabbed a small helping of food and thanked Jane softer than she had meant to and the other woman blushed.

Jane refused to look across the table. "Yeah well you know these two. If you don't grab some now you'll sit there all polite and wait until there is some soggy chips at the bottom left. Frost can't do anything other than sit on his ass so we're doing him a favor and Korsak doesn't need all that cheese period." Jane focused on getting the right amount of chip and toppings before she slid it back at the two guys. "Didn't your mother ever teach either of you ladies first?"

Frost swallowed a sip of beer. "Of course she did. Why do you think I let Korsak go first?"

Korsak pulled the plate closer and grabbed a large loaded wedge of chips off the top ignoring Frost's protests as he popped it into his mouth.

Frowning Frost grabbed a naked chip. "Thanks for being an asshole. You ate all the toppings."

Korsak swallowed with a grin. "Why Barold, honey, I thought you were being all chivalrous tonight."

"Asshole." Frost glanced around the bar. "Thinking about assholes, where is your brother hiding these days Jane? I don't think Frankie had joined us at all these past few weeks."

"My brother is doing something all of us at this table should go out and try some time." Jane took a bite of a chip before slumping against the back of the booth. "My baby brother is actually dating a woman that appears to be normal. So far she doesn't appear to be one of Hoyt's apprentices. Seems to have an IQ above 60 and isn't interested in sacrificing a potential relationship for life threatening surgery."

Frost snorted. "Some guys have all the luck."

Jane nodded. "I know right?"

Korsak grabbed another chip. "Wait a minute, you forgot a couple. She doesn't have a child about to enter jail or a homicidal artistic bend, does she?"

Jane felt Maura stiffen beside her and slipped a hand under the table and lightly clasped Maura's knee in silent support. She narrowed her eyes at Korsak and watched him flinch slightly when he noticed Maura's drawn expression. "No, I believe she is your everyday, all American, girl next door." She rubbed a thumb unconsciously along the silk of Maura's nylon. "Which leaves us all with one important question. How do we deflect my mother's attention until this woman is so smitten with Frankie that she can handle the Italian inquisition over a plate of pasta?"

Frost looked at her thoughtfully and Korsak nodded slowly. Maura chuckled quietly and said Jane's name in that warm warning tone that seemed to echo in her head.

Jane rolled her eyes at Maura's implied defense of her mother and slid out of the booth. "I think this question calls for another round. All in?"

"All in." The question replayed loudly in her memory. Sniffing loudly Jane sat up and furiously rubbed at the tears running down her cheeks and fumbled through the dark for the tissues on her nightstand. The stupid box had taken permanent residence there lately.

They had been all in that night. All of them together, relatively whole, at the Robber where the nachos were made of corn chips and condiments that promised to wreck Korsak's next physical and make her commit to a run the next morning with Maura.

All of them together, where Frost had been Frost and offered her and Maura the first cab to hit the curb as they left.

Now the Robber only offered nachos on kale chips.

Why did everything have to keep changing?

* * *

Not a short story by any means ahead. One that I have been working on for a fair bit of time and one where I'm going to challenge myself a bit. And by challenge I mean I'm letting myself go where I think the story needs to go. It will make for a better story in the end but a harder trip for those willing to climb aboard for the chapter by chapter torture.

And away we go for those willing to play along…


	3. Chapter 3

Please read the disclaimers in Ch 1…

* * *

Maura paused outside the bullpen door, hand touching the cool metal as she spied through the glass. It wasn't surprising that Jane was the only one she could see in the space sitting at her desk.

Almost everyone else was currently at her house.

All day Maura had seen the instinct to flee simmering under the surface. Heard the edge of tears sharpening the end of every word Jane muttered and what tears did fall were hastily extinguished. Hour by hour it had boiled, building in pressure.

How she had known to come here before going to Jane's apartment was something she didn't care to consider at the moment. But she had known, the minute Angela told her it was okay to leave, that she could handle everything.

Maura chewed her lip thinking as she watched the overhead lighting bounce off the sleek bun at the nape of Jane's neck. It was difficult to make out what the other woman was staring at but her posture indicated it was causing trepidation by the stiffness of her bearing and the splayed legs. Only the continual rubbing of her palms over the chair arms indicated that flight was still an option.

Out of reflex Maura looked up and down the hallway but the late hour and the day's events meant the floor was quiet. When she looked back, Jane was running a finger along the object she was staring at before using a finger tip to push it away. Her other hand ripped at the tie her neck, loosening the offending material.

Maura could see the agitation building, understood the emotions driving each motion. Much of the dichotomy that happened between body language and spoken language remained her greatest frustration in interacting with most of her colleagues.

But Jane? Jane she understood.

Shifting uncomfortably Maura adjusted her thinking. Perhaps understand was a strong assertion but the amount of time spent studying the detective gave her the largest body of data to correlate language to Jane's physical manifestation of either.

At first observing Jane had been critical in her attempts to reconcile her professional responsibilities with the required interaction with her colleagues. It had been a conduit of sorts between her own research to bolster what the natural interpretation she seemed to have been born missing and the unique social structure in her place of business. Jane Rizzoli's casual acceptance of her into her world provided unparalleled opportunity for analysis.

Simply witnessing an interrogation was better than any video series she could acquire. She could stare and consider at will. Watch Jane change and alter to each situation to drive an outcome. What a person could do to intimidate, what invited trust, what could indicate anger and what sounded and looked like anger but was merely frustration.

The same could be said for social situations. How Jane behaved was influenced by the location and the people around her. There was the side she showed to her family. The side she had with her colleagues. The confident behavior displayed in a sporting event or when she was out for a drink after work. And with enough time spent together, Maura started to realize there was a side to Jane that she only seemed comfortable pulling out when they were alone together.

What had started as a professional necessity soon became a fascination.

As their friendship blossomed observing Jane became imperative to navigating the ever changing conversations where logic was not readily apparent and social morass rendered the spoken word imprecise at best.

What originally had left her frustrated was now almost innate. Now those tiny tells and indicators that she used to have to carefully search for in Jane's body language to understand what was truth or sarcasm registered easily on her subconscious.

And Jane seemed attuned to her as well. Much of the time Jane seemed able to recognize any subtleties between her words and what she truly meant. Attempting to hide her true thoughts or feelings was more effort than it was worth. No matter how hard she tried to evade, Jane eventually figured it out. The accuracy would be unnerving with anybody else. But not with Jane.

It was safe to be herself with Jane.

Now the observation was habit. A pleasure more than a need. There was a comfort in being able to simply make eye contact and understand exactly what was needed. To see in a glance that she had been understood. To be able to make eye contact and see all that was never said, but she could hear loud and clear.

To know that right now, when Jane's hands gripped the chair arms tightly and she tipped her head back to stare at the far wall that she was fighting tears and losing. To know that it was past time that Jane stopped fighting and that she was the only one that could draw that out of her.

Maura fumbled in her purse for a moment before pulling out a handkerchief and pushing through the door.

Without looking over her shoulder Jane knew who had entered the space. She swallowed thickly, her voice quieter than she expected and coarse to her ears. "I'm sorry I took off like that." She took a deep breath, willing back emotion. "I realized I had better come get my new phone. I remembered when I was taking the trash outside. I have to be available to take a call."

Jane stared resolutely at her lap. "I was going to come right back."

"I know." Maura walked up behind Jane and rested a hand on her shoulder.

"Frost made me give him my phone to set it up when they issued it. Wanted to put my music back and fix up my contacts." The last part was almost a whisper and Jane could feel her eyes try to well over. "It's been sitting on his desk this whole week. I kept forgetting to come get it since I've been on leave." She tried to move away but Maura's hand simply moved over to rub the nape of her neck.

Jane waited but Maura seemed content to stand behind her silent. She thought about moving again but the touch was warm and rhythmic

Jane grabbed at the phone, turned it on. "Frost… he… well he and Frankie." It was hard to breathe now, Maura's fingers continued their path and for a moment Jane wanted to turn around and let Maura hold her together.

She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself as her voice cracked over the words. "It had to have been that day." She was so tired. She needed to start sleeping better. Her hand trembled as her finger stabbed at the photo icon and offered the phone to Maura. "See?"

Maura plucked the phone from Jane's fingers. Within seconds her own eyes blurred and she understood perfectly. There was a photo of Frost, sprawled out at his desk with two thumbs up. One of Frankie with his feet up on Jane's desk winking. Another with Frost's and Frankie's face pressed together, making a horrible duck face.

Unexpected gifts.

Jane scrubbed a hand over her forehead. "Play the first video too, but only the first one."

Maura hesitated a moment but Jane impatiently gestured with her free hand. Delicately she hit play. Jane shuddered as Frost's voice filled the room, obviously directing Frankie. "Hold it steady already!"

On the screen Maura watched Frost sit down at his desk, and smirk into the camera. "Okay Jane, welcome to your phone. I'm doing this so you don't call me in the middle of the night the first time you can't figure out how to work it because we both know you'll tune me out tomorrow when I show you this piece of electronic awesome. So this is the first in a series of how to make it work. First things first. Do not remove this from its protective case. I went it picked it out personally. The Navy Seals tested it. I don't care that it annoys you. Janice down in IT said you get ONE of these babies. They're not going to replace it every single time you trip up the curb."

An indignant, strained voice rumbled under Maura's hand. "I can't even believe he said that. I didn't drop the other one! It fell of my belt during a foot chase for fucks' sake!"

On the phone Frost continued, his warm eyes forever twinkling, knowing. "And you can stop swearing at me Jane. You're lucky that rice trick worked after dropping the other one in Jo's water dish. I can only save you from so much, partner."

Suddenly the focus of the video showed the precinct ceiling and Frankie's voice muttered an "Oh shit."

Off camera Frost could be heard groaning. "What is it? A family gift? Please tell me you didn't crack the screen. Press stop and we'll try again."

Maura couldn't say anything, tears made it impossible to do anything else but place the phone on the desk. She realized the body under her hand was shaking lightly.

They weren't huggers. They didn't hug.

Both hands slipped down to wrap around Jane's shoulders, gently holding her. Instinct warred within and she fought the urge to lean down and draw Jane into her.

"There are other videos." Jane struggled for a minute to control her breathing and cleared her throat, her voice little more than a whisper. "I can't watch….not all of them… not today… Not yet. Because the minute I do?"

Maura had to listen closely to catch the words and Jane seemed to lean into her more. Giving up any pretense Maura pressed Jane into her, felt the body ease slightly under her touch. "Okay."

Jane felt Maura lean closer, felt the tremble in the body behind her. She snaked an arm up to hold Maura's in place, her thumb stroking Maura's forearm as she as her breath caught, burning tight in her throat. "I'm not ready for him to be gone."

"I know Jane." Maura tightened her grip, her low voice betraying her tears. "I'm not ready either, but let's get you home." She straightened up and patted the shoulders under her hands.

Jane stood up, stared down at Frost's empty chair. When she turned around all she could see were the tears running down Maura's face. When she lifted a hand to wipe them away Maura captured it in her own and with a gentle tug pulled her in and held her close.

It was warmth and it was safety.

Jane gave up fighting, letting the first gasp quietly break free as she buried her face into Maura's shoulder and gripped her closer. When Maura's arms tightened, the tension in her body slowly dissolved into wet, boundless, sobs.

It wasn't until the intercom crackled to life, startling her, that Jane was able to lift her head and loosen her grip. Slowly she became aware of exactly where she was and dropped her arms.

Sniffing, Jane wiped at her nose with the handkerchief pressed into her hand as her head pounded in pressure filled beats against her temples. "Let's just get out of here."

Maura tried to steady her breathing, fully stepping back and immediately missing the contact. "Okay."

* * *

A/N... I'm sorry and I know.


	4. Chapter 4

Please read Ch1 for disclaimers…

* * *

The Hunter stretched his legs out on the bed. The memo was short and the explanation brief. An additional target might be necessary. Complex leg work was now requested to discover the necessity of termination. This would mean possibly months at this location. The decision was his. It always was.

His game, his rules.

He reread the words again, dissecting them into layers and inferences. A change.

The human mind resists change. Change equaled risk and survival instincts were engrained into the psyche. The hunter knew this. He had defeated this. Flexibility and mental agility were paramount in what he did. He firmly believed he was above the restrictions of a casual existence by training and design. So despite the human mind's resistance to change professionalism and experience allowed him to overcome this natural inclination to stasis.

He sat up on the bed for a moment, considering options and opportunity against risk.

Nodding slowly he came to a decision. He was unwavering in his certainty that his adaptability set him apart from those who lived around him.

However facts were facts and in his world, change inherently represented a high degree of risk and his instincts made him restless. It would be easy to walk away.

But his pride prickled sharply at the thought and as he walked to the sink and set the paper on fire, he was already mentally adjusting to the possibilities. The financial reward was generous and the complexity intriguing.

By the time the flecks of ash were washing down the motel sink he had decided to begin work and evaluate the possibilities.

He opened the motel door to the full morning sun as it glinted off the last of the winter snow. As he walked he considered the area around him making note of the bus stop a few blocks down. The foot traffic was moderate and the vehicle traffic heavy. Rush hour in the city was drawing to a brief pause before the noon rush.

One more block up was an abandoned gas station that had a small used car sales lot on it. Nodding to himself he noted the general make and models available along with the price in the window. If he continued this job the first adjustment would be mobility beyond the public transit system.

Six more blocks and he was on the one street he would get to know every inch of. Sidewalks bulged in places where tree roots pushed up through asphalt. Parked cars were minimal indicating people held a day job of some sort.

Most houses had fences, but here and there were those that provided swift passage to the next street. Those were the important houses to make note of. He could evaluate their security systems later.

This area suited his purposes. An unexpected bonus. Perhaps a sign he should continue the job. It was not upscale. but not derelict, caught someplace between redevelopment and blue collar roots. The people he did pass by were life weary. These were the type of people who wouldn't have the energy to remember him the next day.

Two blocks up at the corner a well maintained bungalow caught his eye. It was wedged between two large Victorians sporting a series of rusted mailboxes indicating their conversion to apartment units years ago. An old woman wrapped in a thick jacket over a house coat was studiously picking stray trash off the bungalow's miniscule front lawn. For a moment he was startled when she looked directly at him and it made him pause as she analyzed him. He shoved his hands quickly in his pockets and rushed by.

There was always one in every situation.

He passed three more houses before he glanced at the one matching the address etched in his memory. It was clean, the paint fresh and the driveway sealed. A single family Victorian era New Englander with a fenced in back yard and a cement block garage. A quick glance across the way showed a shabby 1950's cape with a for sale sign in the yard and an empty driveway. He took a picture of the real estate number on the sign with his phone. He could always arrange a tour of the property.

On his way back to the motel a gas station with a help wanted sign caught his attention. He bought a burrito and tossed it into the microwave and as the machine ran he quickly glanced around noting camera placements. The security system in here was current. He would not be visiting here often.

He ate on a bench at the bus stop, partially obscured by the plastic and metal shelter. He loved these little shelters. Inside of one he was camouflaged. Security cameras could not penetrate and pedestrians never noticed those loitering. Even bus drivers would come and go and never really see him.

As he ate he considered the older woman at the bungalow. He knew her type. Older, lonely, often forgotten by the world surrounding them, they were the ones that noticed everything. Too often people like her found their involvement in the world reduced to observation. He needed a reason to walk the street frequently. Something that would alter the way she observed him.

By the time he had finished eating, he'd selected a solution from the scenarios working through his thoughts. He pulled out his mobile phone and called up a web browser. With 10 moments of scanning Craigslist he had three possible candidates. The map system on his phone showed two nearby and another clear across the city. He examined the photo again. Distance was good. He placed the call and was pleased to have an immediate invite. The woman on the other end seemed disjointed and distracted.

The bus ride was long, but that was expected. He counted the various stops until the doors opened at one that was within feet of the Park Street MBTA line. The subway system had always been his preference for losing himself in the city. He would use it until each stop and its exits were ingrained in his memory.

Underground the train rattled along the tracks, the windows black as he was hurtled along the tunnels. Finally getting off with a stream of passengers, he paid careful attention to where each possible exit placed him in the city, walking the block until he found where each option put him.

Partially satisfied he followed directions until he was at a neatly kept brownstone. His phone call was immediately answered and the woman's voice was just as harried as the first call. The baby was still wailing in the background.

Perfect. Her recall would be questionable.

Moments later he was in a small, well kept apartment with baby toys spread out. The older chocolate Labrador Retriever had a generous dosing of white over his face and when the dog looked into his eyes there was a defeated acceptance there. Almost as if the old dog knew his time in his home was over.

He ignored the drawn out explanations and excuses pouring out of the woman's mouth. Accepted the bag of food and the leash with a nod of forced sympathy. She told him he was free to take the dog now. She didn't seem the least bit motivated to find out if his story was true. She was simply ready to be done with the responsibility of the dog who had been her companion for the last 8 years.

There was a sense of sadness for his new pet. Loyalty was fickle but an animal couldn't comprehend that concept. Instead the old dog was used and now, when his senior years were creeping up on him, he was discarded without much thought of a goodbye.

It wasn't fair but that was life.

On his way out of the lobby he held the door open for a tall woman with wild dark hair and serious eyes. The old dog greeted her and the small terrier at her side twisted enthusiastically.

He noticed her observe the bag in his hand with a soft sigh. "So Connie was serious the other night. I take it you must be Charlie's new home?"

At his confirmation she raised her hand up to run her fingers through the dark waves, pulling her jacket up with the motion and revealing the shield at her belt. Law enforcement of some kind. She crouched down next to Charlie and ran her hands over his ears in a farewell.

"I would have taken him if I wasn't allergic. I shouldn't even have Jo Friday." The little golden terrier was bouncing at the woman's knee and licking at Charlie's face. "All right Charlie. I have to go make dinner, be good okay?"

He had to pull the leash a bit to hustle the dog along, speaking softly as they made their way up the street and back to the train. The car was almost empty as it hurtled him along the tracks. The rhythmic click and clack of the old train car under the streets of Boston soothed him and he felt the dog staring at him. He returned the look steadily and offered his hand. The animal sniffed it before turning away and lying down at his feet. He sat back and gave the animal his space. It was the least he could do.

This time when he passed the used car lot he took a closer look at the offerings. The Honda Civic in the back appeared well used but a nice nondescript, if somewhat faded, black. Unremarkable and exactly what he wanted. By the time he was opening the door to his room again and letting Charlie check out his new home, he had made up his mind. All the elements pointed to success.

The job was his.

* * *

A/N – To those of you who have decided to brave the waters and click follow on this story or left a review I think I need come up with a name for you...you guys made me feel all warm inside so I wanted to call you "my squishy" but Disney buttoned that one up. I have ideas...

But seriously it takes a lot of trust to come along for the ride after I pretty much put a red label warning on this story. So thank you.

It will be a winding journey but I promise to do my best not to let you down.

To those who are going to read it complete... I look forward to seeing you on the other side ;)


	5. Chapter 5

Please read Ch 1 for disclaimers…

Announcement! – CharlietheCAG has offered herself as Tribute - aka the Beta for this project. Ahhh such a brave, beautiful soul. So willing. Wish her luck and many thanks. Oh and Charlie? May the odd be forever in your editing favor ;)

* * *

Jane pressed the channel key for the third time and watched the stations scroll by on the guide. It was futile. Over 100 channels and still nothing caught her eye. Sticking her spoon in her mouth, she shivered at the sour taste of her dinner. Tomorrow she was going grocery shopping no matter what. Boston could be in the middle of a blood bath and damn it she was going to put something in her refrigerator that didn't taste like yesterday's gym socks. She analyzed the white lumpy mess in the bowl. All that had been edible was Maura's plain Greek yogurt and even the last bit of cereal she managed to find in the back of the cupboard wasn't helping the flavor.

Swallowing another cold lump Jane glanced at the time. Sal's Pizza would still be delivering. She picked up her phone about to dial when the flash of her own skin through the holes in her sweats made her pause. Not only would she have to wait for the delivery, she'd actually have to answer the door. Which probably meant she should put on a pair of sweats that were less ripped up and at least a bra under her t-shirt.

Groaning Jane dropped all the way down on the couch arm. Too late for that shit. She spooned another bite of her yogurt concoction and swallowed it whole. Tomorrow morning she was definitely going out for breakfast. One last scroll through the channel guide and she put it on Food Network. If she couldn't eat a decent dinner she'd at least watch one being made.

Jo was busy on the floor licking her latest rawhide. Snapping her fingers Jane managed to get the terrier to look at her briefly with a thump her tail against the hard wood before returning to her bone. "You know Jo, I don't know if anybody told you this, but people keep dogs for companionship. That usually means that one of us, traditionally the dog, pays attention to the other one." The incessant licking was her only response. "Also, most dogs actually chew those bones. They don't lick off the barbecue flavor and dump the rest of the bone under my bed. I'm just saying." She snapped her fingers again but this time she didn't even get an eye. Jane rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling. "Fine be that way. I should have adopted Charlie. I bet he'd be happy to have some attention."

Jane couldn't stop herself from picturing Charlie looking up at her with those big, brown eyes and put her dinner on the coffee table with a resigned sigh. Rubbing a hand along her face she tried to block it out but it prickled under her skin.

What type of person got rid of an old dog? How did Connie know that guy was going to be a good home? And poor Charlie, it wasn't like he had any control. He had spent years being a loyal friend and now look what happened to him. Cast aside during the last few years of his life.

People weren't supposed to get rid of friends just because something new came into their life. It's not like Connie could take it back either. Didn't the woman understand you needed to treasure what friends you had in this world? It could all change in an instant.

Jane stared at Jo as she worked at the edge of her bone, trying to picture a reason she'd send her away.

What could possible happen to her that would make her not want every minute with someone she considered part of her family? Life was too risky for taking that chance. Blinking she was surprised when tears threatened and struggled to sit up.

Shit. When in the hell did she start getting this sentimental?

Reaching behind her head Jane grabbed her phone again and hit Maura's number, impatiently drumming her fingers on her knee until the call was answered. "That moving boulder of yours has a long life span right?"

Past the Boston Public Garden and tucked up on Beacon Hill, Maura pushed her laptop aside. "Well hello and how are you too?" She chuckled at the exasperated snort that came through the phone. "If by moving boulder you are referring to Bass then yes, a tortoise has an extensive life span compared to most standard pets."

Jane slid down the couch further, relaxing. "And you got him when he was a baby knowing he was going to live a long time right?" She barely waited for the murmured agreement before continuing. "So no matter how many places you have lived or what changes you had in your life you never got rid of him."

Maura could feel herself frowning. Often talking with Jane was like wandering in a garden maze. Always interesting with frequent unexpected twists in the path the conversation took and usually the final point of the discussion was a surprise. Maura settled a blanket over her legs.

So far this was turning into one of those conversations.

Maura paused few seconds, trying to figure out exactly what point Jane's line of questioning was leading to. With a soft sigh she gave up trying to puzzle out an appropriate answer. "Why would I get rid of Bass because I moved? Admittedly there have been times he has been in extended care but I do enjoy his company. Perhaps if I took up permanent residence on an Arctic station that would be challenging to his biological needs it would be the right thing to do for his health…"

"That's my point!" Jane huffed into the phone cutting off Maura. "Somebody dumped Jo off and I know she's a little stubborn and all, but it's not like she's all that much trouble. I mean, it's not like when you have your frozen babies you're going to kick Bass to the curb right?"

"Jane, wait, why am I kicking Bass?" Maura replayed the last bit of Jane's conversation in her head. "Why are babies frozen?"

Jane's voice blasted through the phone "The frozen egg thing!"

Maura took a deep breath. "Slow down a minute here. What do frozen eggs have to do with kicking Bass?"

Exasperated Jane tossed an arm over her eyes. "Not frozen eggs, children." She took a deep breath. "Someday when you unfreeze your future frozen eggs and make beautiful babies you're not about to give Bass away right?"

Maura took her time sorting through what Jane just said and finally managed to see the end of the verbal maze. "No, if I have children someday, which is hardly a guaranteed life event, I would assume Bass would remain in my life." Another thought crossed her mind. "Do you really think my babies would be beautiful?"

Jane felt the heat rise along her cheeks and she wasn't even certain why. "Well sure. You're going to be their mother so if they're going to be half you, of course they're going to be beautiful."

"Physical beauty is not reliant on phonotypical appearance of the parents. Quite often genetic expression…" Maura pulled the phone away from her ear until the exasperated growl ended.

"Oh my god, turn off your brain. I'm too tired to debate this Maura. You'll have beautiful babies someday and Bass will learn to play step stool or something for them." Jane turned to face the television smiling at the light laughter coming through the phone.

Maura stared into her empty mug and debated another cup of tea. "What made you call me at 10:00 pm at night to ask about Bass's domestic security in relation to my possible future offspring?"

Jane turned off the TV and listened to Jo wrestle with the position of her bone. "The woman who moved into Marissa's old apartment just had a baby. Single mom but not all that young. Probably our age. I don't know. She's had this really sweet chocolate lab for years. Longer than I've had Jo at any rate. Sometimes we'd talk about our dogs if we ran into each other walking them in the morning."

Jane scratched her stomach lightly through her shirt. "Anyhow, she mentioned having him was too hard with the baby and she hated picking dog hair off all the baby's blankets so she wanted to know if I wanted him. I said no because I don't even have time for Jo." Jane took a deep breath and let it out on a sigh. "Today I saw a guy leaving with him." She paused but Maura didn't say anything. "It bothered me I guess, that's all."

Maura chewed her bottom lip for a moment. They had been friends long enough that she knew asking the obvious question of "why" wouldn't get her any additional information. Jane would likely answer the question but deflect the answer. She also knew that Jane wouldn't have bothered with the call unless it really was a situation she found distressing. It was the exact reason for the distress that was hard to ascertain. Maura realized she had been silent too long when her name came over the call again.

Maura cleared her throat. "Sorry I was thinking." She continued before Jane could ask the exact nature of her thoughts. "I am sure it will be hard on the dog to lose everything he understands."

"Exactly!" Jane sighed again. "I feel like she had this baby and didn't need Charlie anymore because she had a family."

Maura decided to take a guess. "Charlie is the dog, correct?"

"Well of course he is."

Maura decided that tea wasn't worth it but wine might be and she got up off her couch. "To clarify, you feel that your neighbor replaced her dog with a baby?"

Jane could hear a light clink of glass hitting a solid surface and took a guess. "Dr. Isles are you drinking this late all by yourself? And no, it isn't replacing a dog with a baby. It's about how she got rid of her old friend. That was what she always talked about with Charlie, that he was her perfect friend. Now she has a family and it's bye-bye Charlie, don't let the door hit your ass on the way out."

Maura realized she could see the maze clearly now. People and their behaviors may not be an intuitive strong point for her but Jane was rapidly becoming her exception. The conversation had evolved into one that was a touch more complex than Maura had anticipated. She took her time sitting back down and sipped at her wine slowly as she thought. As right as she believed she was there was always the possibility of being incorrect. "For the record I'm not drinking alone, you are on the phone. I would also like to point out I need this glass of wine to relax me while I try to follow this conversation at," Maura glanced at her watch. "shortly after 10pm at night." She took another sip. "Try not to make a sweeping assumption Jane. There might be several reasons she needed to find a home for Charlie. She's a single mother so perhaps she can't walk him enough or maybe being on her own as a new parent means she feels inadequate in the level of attention she can offer him."

"I still call bullshit. You don't get rid of your dog you've had for years because you've just had a baby. Jo's like family. She's like a good friend that I live with. I mean I know if I had kids I certainly wouldn't get rid of you. I'd still need you and want you with me." Jane heard the low beep of her phone. "Warning, I'm almost out of battery so if I cut out I wasn't hanging up on you. I have no idea why this stupid thing burns though battery so much."

Maura nodded to herself. And there it was. Her grasp on the situation was apparently correct. Maura sipped at her wine and turned off the table lamp. "I'm warned. And you could look it up online I'm sure." She was grateful for the low battery on Jane's phone as the turn in the conversation started dredging up feelings she had been trying to work through. Emotions she was trying to eradicate. Often without much success. She took care choosing her words. "I do not believe people intentionally go out to replace an old friend with a new one. Or for that matter, get rid of an old friend when they start a family. I believe there are simply adjustments to be made." At least this is what she had been trying to convince herself of. The influences of the last year tugged at her. The sight of Jane walking towards an almost healed Casey pricked at her, still fresh in her memory. For some reason withholding her thoughts felt dishonest and her breathing increased.

Jane went to reply when she realized the phone was dead. Annoyed she tossed it to the end of the couch and cursed the fact she had dropped her landline to save money. Why look up anything like battery life online? Frost always seemed to know what the issue was. That kind of stuff was his responsibility. Not hers.

The phone mocked her from the end of the couch. Tears pricked against her eyelids. Stupid phone with its stupid videos.

She picked it up and stared at the dark screen.

In the quiet of her apartment she thought about going to her bedroom, plugging it in and pulling up the next video Frost had left her. For a moment she gripped it so hard she thought it would break before gently placing it on the coffee table.

Jane stretched out on her couch and covered her eyes with an arm. She hadn't liked Maura's tone during the last part of that call. It had that formal, measured pitch she used when she thought she could hide something from her. With a frustrated growl she realized she had forgotten to ask if Maura wanted to meet her for breakfast.

Pushing up and off the couch Jane grabbed the phone and padded her way into the bathroom to get ready for bed. It didn't really matter, Maura was like a clock and tomorrow was a running day. It was better face to face anyhow. Maura could almost never say no when she begged and if she didn't beg she'd end up stuck at that new raw food place on Charles Street.

This way she could meet her at the Public Garden for part of her run and convince her to go out for pancakes after. Or at least Maura could watch her eat pancakes while she ate some bland mess of egg whites or whatever health kick she was currently exploring. At least she had stopped pestering her about going on a juice cleanse with her. Her colon was just fine thank-you-very-much.

Satisfied with her plan of action Jane made her way to the bedroom and plugged her phone in. Whatever was bothering Maura she'd deal with it in the morning.


	6. Chapter 6

Please read Ch 1 for disclaimers…

* * *

Maura washed out her glass and put it away while she tried to decide if she was happy the conversation abruptly ended or if she was disappointed it hadn't continued. By the time she had put the clean glass back in the cabinet she hadn't made up her mind.

She managed to push it aside while getting ready for bed but once she was surrounded by the quiet comfort of her room and bed, the thoughts pushed back in.

Maura didn't believe that people intentionally pushed friends or family aside when something changed in their life, but experience had shown her it certainly seemed to happen.

It wasn't a deliberate choice as much as a natural necessity. There were only so many hours in a day and after accomplishing one's obligations, any discretionary time was all that remained to maintain personal relationships, romantic or otherwise.

Romantic relationships were confusing and vexing at times to navigate. You needed to dedicate time to deepening the emotional bond with a romantic partner but also had to keep a strong awareness of self and personal needs. Over time she had made that mistake more than once. She would never sacrifice who she was or what she needed again.

Friendship was one of those needs.

How to strike a balance was an equation Maura dearly wished she knew the solution to. Deep in thought she ran her fingers along the satin edge to her pillow case.

There was certainly sacrifice for both people in the relationship but if one had to change too much to remain in the relationship then the pairing was doomed to fail.

The same could be said if you were unwilling to adjust at all to accommodate a romantic partner. If including your partner's needs along with your own was a burden, then this was another indicator for future failure.

At least this was what her own attempts at romantic relationships and careful observation of others had taught her.

Because romantic relationships often first developed outside one's immediate social circle, they required added time and attention to adequately determine if the relationship was one that continued to hold potential as a long term commitment. And before you impacted your immediate friends and family it was better to ascertain that the relationship held the potential for permanency.

It was inevitable then that you would have less time to spend with the other primary relationships in your life.

Maura shifted, trying to find a comfortable position before sitting up to straighten out the duvet. She wanted to relax but her mind continued to consider the various nuances of friendships, family and romantic bonds. Slowly she forced herself to lie back down, staring at her ceiling.

Romantic partnerships were also physically intimate providing a source of connection that was unique and private. It wasn't a simple sexual union for mutual gratification. It was reaffirmation of the special place you held in each other's lives in the most primal of ways.

By intention, a monogamous romantic relationship indicated a distinct offering of part of one's physical self reserved only for that special person.

An intimacy belonging to no other.

Beyond the sexual there was the careful evaluation of how the individual fit into the complexities of one's day to day existence. More importantly there must be the ability to have a shared vision of what the future could become for the two of you.

You should agree about how the two of you would go forward together in life. By design the relationship would ultimately be the primary consideration in how your life moved forward. Once you were together, if life changed, you changed together. The people around you, your address, so much might alter, but the two of you would be in it together.

Maura rubbed her hand lightly over her forehead and took a deep breath, willing herself to stop thinking even as her thoughts continued to churn.

Frustrated she rolled to her side and stared at her closed bedroom door. Perhaps matching that person to both your current life and future vision was the most important. It was certainly why Garrett had not been the correct choice for her younger self and the driving reason Ian would never be a viable option.

She had loved both men.

Had been deeply attracted to both men.

With Garrett, they had shared a youthful adoration of each other, a mutual infatuation with haute couture and highly compatible social circles.

Ian had shared her choice in education and like her, his vocation was helping others. He brought passion into both her bed and her life through his dedication to his own vision of making the world a better place.

It was interesting that their expression of how they decided to help others was ultimately what pulled them apart.

In the end, neither relationship had been able to strike a balance or a compromise that would have allowed both parties to accomplish their dreams.

Maura sighed softly.

Even in her youth she had known it was entirely illogical for either relationship to offer her long term happiness if she had to sacrifice her own vision for her future or change herself entirely to meet either man's needs.

Which was why it was becoming extremely difficult to continue to remain quietly supportive of Jane while she developed her relationship with Casey.

Maura pulled the duvet up around her shoulders and drew her knees up. With her ever evolving understanding of Jane and having reached a point in her life that her own experiences had shown that love was not the only deciding factor in a successful long term commitment, Jane's relationship with Casey was decidedly disturbing.

It was becoming increasingly difficult to remain impartial and step aside so Jane would have the ability to grow her relationship with Casey independent of external pressure.

Harder still was carefully monitoring her responses or interactions so she would not influence Jane while she developed her own interpretation of her future at Casey's side.

Maura pressed a fist against her abdomen as the now familiar tightening made her draw her knees up higher.

It was unusual. There was something about Jane's relationship that made her uneasy at a deep, visceral, level.

She pressed down harder before opening her hand to gently rub under her sternum.

Gut instinct. She could almost hear Jane's voice in her head.

Maura closed her eyes tightly.

Her problem was how to discern how much of the disquiet was truly over the suitability of Casey as a life partner for Jane, or how much was apprehension over how her friendship with Jane would unavoidably alter.

She had already felt it with the situation with her biological Grandfather. That anxiety of needing Jane and having to ask for her attention when Maura knew she needed that private time with Casey.

It had been an unavoidable glimpse into a future she was not certain she was ready to cope with.

Maura stopped rubbing her stomach and wrapped her arm against her torso, feeling foolish. It was ridiculous to worry about an imagined scenario until it became fact. Her friendship with Jane would adjust and while the time available for her would be reduced, there was no need to waste time feeling anxious or troubled.

Maura closed her eyes and attempted to center herself. To find that internal awareness that would force the rapid influences of her thoughts to settle. She tried to ignore the familiar sounds of her home at night. The muted sound of the heating system forcing hot water through the pipes. The rattle of her window as a gust of wind blew against the sill.

Against her will her eyes flew open and stared into the dark. It didn't help that Jane had been somewhat self-contained lately. It was understandable as she adjusted to the loss of Frost. They all missed him. In the weeks following the memorial service, something would come to her attention that would make her remember conversations and moments of laughter.

Each time she had to stop and compose herself.

Barry was one of the few people Maura could always rely on to try to understand her. And if he couldn't, he certainly appreciated and accepted her. He was also one of the few that understood Jane.

Barry and Jane suited each other immensely as working partners. For all of Jane's natural brashness he was a quiet power. Determined and dedicated. Not many people had the inner fortitude to overcome a strong, personal, aversion to something in order to reach a goal.

The homicide detective revolted by death. Most men would have walked away. Changed career paths.

But not Barry Frost.

Instead he not only faced his own demons, but he willingly took on Jane's along the way. In time the appreciation, but most importantly the trust, had built between the two detectives. Trust that had been challenged in life threatening situations.

Frost had Jane's back.

And Maura understood what that meant.

Losing that kind of force in your life left a vast void behind it.

Words and research would mean little right now. Jane did not take comfort in either like she did. But lately Maura found herself with little opportunity to offer either. It wasn't overt but Maura had slowly come to realize they were spending less time together.

And that time together was missing certain elements. There was a little less sarcasm. Very little teasing. A lot less laughter.

It worried her.

Unawareness made her feel dim-witted and Maura despised feeling less than adequate. Tonight's conversation had barely scratched the surface, yet all the conflicting emotion in her pushed right to the forefront. What combination of emotion it was exactly, remained elusive, but it was there like a weight on her chest and it was keeping her awake.

That worry, along with her own anxiety over the future of their friendship, was a vortex of emotion she couldn't sort through. She found herself unable to assimilate it in any kind of organized fashion.

Maura Isles didn't know what to do.

And that bothered her.

All the books and all the research she had done on grief and grief process felt woefully deficient on a night like tonight when she was alone in the dark.

Perhaps it was time to reach out and see if anybody else had noticed a change in Jane. Angela? Korsak? Both were possible. Both loved Jane dearly. Angela was acutely aware of any change in any of her children. But she also had a way of pushing that made Jane pull away. At least at first.

Frankie jumped into Maura's thoughts. She could try speaking with Frankie. Frankie had also been rather close to Frost. He loved his sister dearly. He may even provide insight on how to handle the change Casey's involvement in their lives would bring. She wouldn't ask outright, but a brother would also be protective of who his sister would end up with.

Maura tried to regulate her breathing. She needed to relax. She needed more rest, and internally debating this was not going to help.

Nothing could be done about any of it tonight.

With a soft sigh she reached over and tipped her bedside clock toward her until she could hit the top button. White noise filled the room and Maura closed her eyes, desperate to let the audio repetition override her consciousness and carry her away.

It would work out. It had to.

* * *

A/N – CharlietheCAG again played beta. She also hasn't run in terror as we chat away during said "clean up." Brave, brave little Tribute. Thank you.

For the reviewer who poked me asking for the update – it was a gift to know people are looking for the next installment. Already have the next one getting spit polished by Charlie.

I'm also going to start calling the followers of this story Benders. It may be a huddled few at the moment but thank you for having my back! I hope when we reach the end you'll be proud you were a part of it from the start.


	7. Chapter 7

Please read Ch1 for disclaimers...

* * *

Success, the Hunter believed, was not a matter of luck but a matter of knowledge.

The old adage that knowledge equals power had always guided his way. He had learned that the safest way to manage risk was to understand it, to embrace it and, if you are fortunate, turn the risk into an advantage.

Charlie was an affable soul. The dog had reached an age where exercise was welcome and sleep came easily. He liked dogs. One day, when his working days were over, he would have one.

Growing up he hadn't had pets and hadn't understood the appeal until he first used a dog for cover. He had even resisted the idea at first but his mentor had been a wise man.

One of his first lessons was to exist in plain sight. People never notice a man exercising his dog. Never question a dog owner's presence on their street day after day. Dogs gave you an excuse to tarry, to strike up a conversation. Most often the conversation would be unguarded.

Merely by asking for a dog walker recommendation, you could find out who was on vacation, where the best, unpatrolled parks were for off leash play and even when people were or were not home.

Simple really, and as an added bonus he had companionship while he worked.

Today the plan was uncomplicated. Secure rent on his room for at least a month. Inquire about the car at the car lot.

Meet the old woman in the bungalow.

The old woman was a notable risk, although minor. By meeting her he could evaluate what type of risk she was and perhaps even turn that risk into his first advantage. It would take time but with the change in the plan, he wasn't in a rush.

The first item of the day hit a small glitch. The motel was type of place that cash was often the payment method of choice and nobody looked twice. This he had expected. Extended stays were common but apparently dogs were not. This was unexpected. Mentally he filed this observation and countered the scrutiny at the front desk with a story, the words falling from his mouth with practiced ease.

He was careful to outline the unfortunate loss of his job down South and his love of his dog that he had for years. Couldn't leave his only family behind now could he? He altered the flow of the conversation slightly with each change of the clerk's facial expression until the other man's stare became one of passive disinterest. With a last long look at the dog, the front desk clerk charged him a daily surcharge.

Walking away and out of the front office he made a decision to evaluate alternative living options. It might be a wise decision to move locations between the two phases of the job now that the dog had also drawn unwanted scrutiny.

The used car lot was simplistic. Cash was still king in establishments like this. A flash of green and eyes were quickly averted to anything seemingly unusual.

The little black car was nondescript without overt wear or damage that would make it memorable to a casual observer. For show he haggled a little over the price and the deal was sealed within an hour.

The salesman was only too happy to personally handle the registration with the department of motor vehicles the next day with proof of insurance. Those documents he could forge by morning. With the quick exchange of money and a handshake the deal was complete.

A short while later he was back on the street with the old woman's tidy bungalow in clear view. This time he let Charlie dictate their direction and speed. The animal's age and natural inclination allowed him the excuse to move along the sidewalk at a leisurely pace.

He was not surprised after he had passed a house or two that the front door to the bungalow opened and the elderly woman stepped onto her porch and openly observed him. Eventually the dog pulled him along and as he got closer, he offered her a smile. Her eyes narrowed and the skin over her wrinkled forehead developed deep trenches but she didn't say anything as Charlie sniffed along her fence line.

When Charlie pulled him to the bungalow's front gate, she stiffly moved down the front steps to collect the paper sitting on her walkway. He tried smiling again and wishing her a good morning but all he got in return was another suspicious glance and a tight nod in his direction. At that moment he knew this was not going to be the morning he would speak with her. That would have to wait.

No matter.

Tomorrow was another day.

* * *

Joseph Landucci put his office phone down with a hollow plastic click and rubbed his hands over his face. Opening his eyes he stared at his distorted reflection in the glass covering the mahogany desk. His contact had accepted the full job. Both issues he had determined could be eradicated.

Issues, was the phrase that had been used.

Issues.

It wasn't that the word was incorrect, both employees were issues in the loosest sense of the word. He buried his hands in his hair and tugged. The movement of his arms moved his shirt and the sweat patches turned cold under his arms.

What had seemed like a solution to a problem was moving beyond his control.

The discussion on the phone was as direct and understandable as any other business dealing. A pure exchange of goods and services, dry and impersonal sounding.

But in the case of Lauren Harper, he knew her face. He knew small stories of her family and what she ate for breakfast at her desk every morning. She knew his preferred dry cleaner, what he purchased through his personal shopper and the fact that his daughter was dropping out of school after this semester.

Sitting back in his office chair a small icy chill ran down Joseph's back and twisted his gut. Turning around he stared at the windows behind him. Boston at night was a stunning sight across the harbor. The lights of the Zakim Bridge glowed blue, highlighted by the brightly lit windows of a busy city.

Both times he had spoken to his contact he had somehow been in this office and alone. In a busy office that worked internationally and had laboratory space that was practically unheard of. His palms went clammy. It was almost as if that fact was known before the call was placed.

Joseph was still staring out the giant window, fully aware of how vulnerable he was when the quiet knock first broke into his panic. The well known cadence came again, louder.

"Come on in Lauren." He watched her walk in. She was graceful and poised. He knew the folders in her hand would be his travel information for the next week, each destination exquisitely organized.

"Joe, I have your arrangements to go to the AACR symposium in Florence next week finally figured out." Lauren took a seat in front of her boss and pulled out a sheet of paper. "You're booked all three days with meetings so unless you'd like me to change it, I have you flying home Sunday morning." She looked up in question when she didn't hear the expected agreement. "Joe?"

He shook his head slightly and focused back on his EA. "Sorry, my mind was still on that last call I took."

"I wanted to know if it was okay that I left you with a Saturday night stay? If you open your Outlook calendar you'll notice that you're booked for all three meals and drinks through Saturday night. I assumed you would rather leave your travel home for the red eye Sunday night rather than attempt to catch a late flight Saturday night." Lauren held up the paper again. "The drinks on Saturday night are with Dr. Vogelstien and you know he won't be quick. I didn't want to risk you not being able to make a flight out."

"Of course, that's fine." Joseph knew he was acting preoccupied. Could feel Lauren studying him. It was too much. He gripped the arms of his office chair tightly, not surprised when sweat made them slip along the leather.

He took a deep breath and let out a sigh. "Why don't we review this tomorrow? I can't focus."

Lauren slipped the paper back in the folder and studied her boss. He looked nervous, uncomfortable even. "Are you okay?"

Lauren's eyes were bright and alive. He could feel his heart start to pound as he imagined what they would look like staring still and blank. The room buzzed in his ears.

"Joe?" Lauren placed the folder on his desk, trying to get his attention back. "Is it Lizzie again?"

Lizzie, his wayward daughter and the least of his problems. "No more so than usual. I'm fine. I think I need a good dinner and a night's rest. You own my calendar, book something for us tomorrow."

"Joe, if you have a minute I needed to talk to you." Lauren shot him a small smile. "I wanted to wait until everyone had left for the night. It's personal."

She looked flushed. Joe couldn't place the look on Lauren's face. Embarrassment? But no, the flushed cheeks were graced with a bigger smile when he offered her a smile in return.

Lauren took a deep breath. "I'm pregnant!" The words were followed by a rush of relief. "We've been trying so long I had almost given up hope! I'm almost 14 weeks along. I know I should have mentioned it a few weeks ago but I wanted to be certain."

He heard the words but the meaning was only slowly starting to sink in. His reply stuck in his throat but he cleared it and tried again. "Congratulations."

Her voice bubbling with excitement and relief, Lauren leaned forward. "Don't worry about my work. We need me to have this job. I'm returning as soon as my maternity leave is over."

Lauren's hand was resting on her stomach. For a minute Joe remembered all those years ago when his wife first told him Lizzie was on the way. "Don't worry about here, but speak with HR as soon as possible."

"Oh, I will tomorrow! I just wanted to tell you first." Lauren gracefully stood up. "I've always appreciated this job." She took a step back and studied him. "We've been working together a long time, haven't we?"

He could almost feel the windows pressing on his back, as if eyes scorched his skin. His voice came out more serious than he intended. "We have." He felt sweat forming on the soles of his feet. "Lauren…"

Her hands grasped the chair back and her expression fell slightly. He knew his expression had to be tipping her off but if he moved any more she'd see the growing wet stain under his arms.

He tried again. "Lauren, I hope you realize how important you are to me." The next words were sandpaper against his tightening throat. "This is a special time in your life, enjoy it. Go home to Bill, he'll have my head for having you out this late while you're expecting."

Lauren nodded and walked towards the door. Joe was still avoiding eye contact. In their five years of working together she had often been frustrated but never uncomfortable. Tonight she couldn't help but feel both.

Uneasy she looked over her shoulder. "Get some rest tonight Joe. I'll see you tomorrow."

He looked up when the door shut and stared at it for a long time.

He could always rescind the second request. Perhaps he would reevaluate after the analyst was no longer a problem.

There was still time for that, wasn't there?

He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.

He didn't know anything anymore.

* * *

A/N: Many thanks to CharlietheCAG for the beta. Any mistakes are **mine** Benders. I edited a little last night after she had to go. So all my fault. I'll go whip myself with wet noodles for missing commas.


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